8 Maelstrom: Contact
by illmatar
Summary: Developments among the Autobot Command staff and Lancer's possession. M for language and VIOLENCE. Part of a series read comics first. Comics:  illmatar. deviantart. com Link spaced to post Optimus, Rodimus Prime, Elita One, Ultra Magnus, Jazz
1. Chapter 1

**Maelstrom 6**

**Contact****: Part 1**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

It was pure coincidence that Jazz happened to be in the communications center when the odd transmission came through. Chromia was on duty monitoring the airwaves (something she had plenty of experience with from her time in the underground with Elita) and noticed an odd, coded message she didn't recognize. Unsure of what she had found, she asked Jazz if he recognized it.

Jazz was busy as always. He had only stopped in to transmit some of his routine work quickly so he could get on with his more covert duties, and he didn't really have time to check out random transmissions. It was more likely than not to be nothing - even Earth kids playing spy games, or something equally trivial.

He couldn't ignore a pretty lady though, and he paused to check it out with good grace. He nearly told her to ignore it when something made him pause and think. The repeating series of numbers seemed sort of familiar.....No! It couldn't be!

Months of working with Rodimus, the most annoying Prime in history, were all that let him keep up the appearance of cool. He said something dismissive about the codes to Chromia and WALKED out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him he transformed and tore off full tilt for Optimus' quarters.

Optimus heard the excited knock on his door with resigned irritation. There was no rest for the weary around here, that was for sure.

The knock repeated and Elita grinned at her mate, "You'd better let him in. It's got to be important to have gotten HIS energon is such a boil." They could both see Jazz fairly climbing the walls of the hallway through the monitors.

Prime opened the door, and they both went through the ritual conversion check. The instant Jazz was done he blurted his news before Optimus could even drag him inside the soundproof doors.

"Op! Chromia just intercepted a coded transmission! It's in one of our old algorithms!"

"It's probably just an old echo Jazz. I don't see why you had to bother me with this anyway. Rodimus is on duty tonight! I'M trying to get the rest everyone keeps saying I need!"

"But Optimus! It's GOLDBUG'S code!" Jazz cried.

It wasn't often that Optimus changed his mind about anything so quickly.

They found an excuse to get Chromia out of the room and holed up in the communications center nervously. They were afraid this was a trick of some kind - maybe the Decepticons, maybe the Jabez. They were also afraid Rodimus might stumble upon them. If this wasn't a hoax, or even if it was, they had no idea how he would react to the news Goldbug might live. And if Goldbug DID live, who was he with?

Optimus keyed in his old response codes and waited, finding hope a painful burden. They waited.

Finally a response came through the audio channels. No visuals were transmitted. A male human voice came through to them quietly, as if even with the transmission scrambled he somehow feared to speak too loud.

"Cybertron, this is the Maelstrom. To whom am I speaking?"

"Maelstrom, this is Autobot Commander, Optimus Prime," Optimus said - his voice reflecting both his hope and his skepticism. They had already tried to trace the transmission, but it had been bounced back and forth between so many objects and transmitters that was impossible.

There was a brief pause at the other end. Then, "I have a message for you. One of your people is with us. He doesn't want to speak to you in person, so I really don't know why he wants to send you a message at all, but he wants you to know he's alive. He went by the name of Goldbug when he was with you."

"Went? Who is this? How do I know you're telling me the truth?" Optimus said, nerves making him defensive.

"You don't know I'm telling you the truth. You don't get to learn who I am. I've given the message. That is all. Maelstrom out."

"WAIT! Is Lancer with you?" Optimus cried desperately.

The pause on the other end was so long those listening thought the transmission was over with. Then a new voice with a decided hiss in it confronted them.

"Lancer? What know you of Lancer? Speak Robot! Why do you invoke the names of our dead?!"

"She isn't dead! Or at least, she wasn't a year ago! She brought another of our lost people home to us and left!" Optimus said.

"Man what are you doin'?" Jazz hissed. "That could be the Jabez you're talkin to!"

"It isn't," Optimus stated.

"How do you know?!" Jazz accused. He was fearful Optimus had just destroyed them all in a moment of reckless desperation.

"The Matrix! Now be quiet!" Optimus snapped. It was true. Or at least he hoped it was true. The Matrix had a way of guiding him even now that it was mostly empty. Maybe it was even the bits of Rodimus that knew these people from Lancer's memories, but the mysterious crystal encouraged him to trust. It was a horrifying risk, but one Optimus felt he had to take. Rodimus was dying, and try as he might to make his Autobots independent of him, the young Prime was currently indispensable to his people's survival.

"You lie!" the voice hissed.

"I'm not lying! Please! We have to find her!" Optimus said, letting his desperation fully show in his voice.

There was another long pause.

"Even if th' girl was alive," yet another human voice said, "What in th' hell would you want with her?"

"She is alive!" Optimus averred. "She said there was a teleport accident. She rescued my partner from a Jabez torture chamber, but they didn't make it back to your ship. They were marooned for months instead, but she brought him home! He's alive because of her, and we've been fighting to stop the slave trade ever since!"

"Hush fool! TK!" the hissing voice snapped again with an odd clack at the end. "If that is so, you risk your world by speaking of it!"

"And it still don't tell us what 'e wants with the girl, assuming this ain't some fairy story!"

"I need to find her," Optimus said sadly. "My partner needs her."

"Explain yourself Robot!"

"I...I'm not sure I can," Optimus said. "Do you believe in telepathic links?"

"My sibling is a telepath Robot. Lancer is...was.. not. You try our patience with these lies."

"I can't explain it!" Optimus cried. "Rodimus isn't a telepath either! But they linked somehow, and she's trying to break it. It's killing him, but she believes she might corrupt him with her demon! They've been holding a shield between them for almost a year now, and he's dying because of it!"

"Man, you've really done it now!" Jazz said in amazement.

"What choice do I have?" Optimus snapped, not even bothering to hide this argument from the listening strangers. "Should I just let Rodimus die by inches then? Chances are their friend is dying too! We're running out of time!"

"It certainly sounds like the girl," one of the human males mused.

"TK! We shall see! We will look into your story Robot! If it is true, we will contact you. If it isn't, you will pay for profaning the name of our friend!"

"Whatever you do please hurry!" Optimus said, but the transmission had been cut off. He flopped forward on the console. Elita patted his back reassuringly, making Jazz decidedly jealous. After all, HE was the one who was really panicking!

"And here I was thinking RODIMUS Prime was the crazy one!" Jazz grossed. "The cat's really out of the bag now! What if the Jabez intercepted that? What if anyone intercepted that? That wasn't on the new transmitters! Even the blasted 'Cons used to crack those old codes sometimes Optimus, and you just told anyone who was listening that Rodimus is dyin'!"

"Well then you'd better hope that Rodimus is right about no one caring about anything we do Jazz! I had to make a choice and I made it! They are our only link to Lancer! What would you have had me do? If Rodi dies....." Optimus' voice trailed off. Even if the Maelstrom crew came to trust them, even if they agreed to look for Lancer, even if they found Lancer in time, it was no guarantee Rodimus would live.

"It will be fine, Orion," Elita said. "You did the right thing."

"Yeah, Man," Jazz said apologetically. "I've just been hanging with Rodi and the Major General too much. Paranoia is contagious ya know."

"I know," Optimus said, trying to take comfort from their words. It wasn't easy. Rodimus grew worse by the day.

They had stopped hounding the young Prime about his mate scant weeks ago. It had taken several seizures immediately after Elita had mentioned Lancer by name to make it clear the name and the seizures went hand in hand. Optimus' more oblique style of questioning had caused seizures too, but usually with a delayed response, obscuring the connection. Unfortunately, giving Rodimus the reprieve he so craved only slowed things down.

Optimus felt that his young partner had reached a point of no return some time ago - maybe on the day he had suffered through such pain coming from Lancer's side - maybe even earlier than that. Perhaps Rodimus would have gotten ill even if he'd never been questioned about Lancer, but Optimus now saw that his own choice to confront Rodimus about his mate had hurried Rodi's illness along.

Now they could track the dwindling of their friend's strength day by day. The seizures happened more and more frequently even without the mention of Lancer's name, and even when he was functioning Rodimus seemed listless. Several of the Autobots who knew nothing of the Jabez, Lancer, or the link had asked if Rodimus had a paint job. They were noticing his color was faded even when he was awake. The mask of cheerful energy was decidedly faded too and people were talking, wondering why he was "depressed." It was perhaps the fact that Rodimus seemed unable to to summon the energy to appear fine that had the command staff most distraught. Rodimus held up his masks so religiously they knew nothing short of a mortal illness could cause him to let them falter.

x

x

x

On the Maelstrom, Talon slammed both fists on a consol, causing Robert to glare at him reproachfully. Robert didn't get uptight about much but you didn't want to put a scratch on the ship in his presence.

"I don't believe this shit!" Talon roared. "And ta think, I was trai...taught to trust Autobots!"

"Robert," Pagan said, "are you certain there is no Conversion involved."

"No. Not really," Robert replied. "I scanned them and the readings are negative, but these are robots we are dealing with, not humans. I have no idea what the Jabez would do to Convert a Transformer. It might not be something our scanners would recognize. The big one that was talking to us is carrying a memory crystal but the readings on it are funny. It's not like configured like the ones on board at all - which may or may not mean he's been Converted. None of the others have one. Heck, for all I know, the Jabez don't need special Conversion chips...they might just have to reprogram them."

"The one you spoke to has not been Converted," Claudia said. "I could sense him from even here. He is genuinely fearful."

"That's Optimus Prime, Claudia," Talon said. "And if folk lore holds, he's to be trusted." The big man ended with a skeptical snort that informed them of his trust of folk lore.

"Do you think its _possible_ Lancer might be alive?" Robert asked, just as Malice entered the room.

"WHAT?!" she cried.

"We gave the Autobots Shellshock's message Malice," Robert said. "They claim Lancer brought the other one back to them."

"Yeah, but they also claimed she has some kinda telepathic link with th' sucker," Talon said, "An we all know how the girl feels about mental contact of ANY stripe!"

"Such bonds are very rare, even among the Drazi. The youngling did have open channels though," Pagan mused, as if to herself, "And the paranoia the robot hinted at about the demon is quite in character with her wounds."

"PAGAN!" Talon cried, "You ain't startin' to buy this shit are you? This's prob'ly a trap an' they're using Lancer as bait!"

"The fear I sensed was genuine," Claudia toned musically.

"So?" Talon said. "Maybe Optimus hasn't been Converted but they've got something over 'is head that's making 'im sell us out! We've faced that before too!"

"We will know when we investigate," Pagan said grimly.

"We're going?!" Talon cried, "Even though we know it's likely to be a set up?"

"Can you turn your back on this place without knowing Talon?" Pagan asked.

Talon was silent.

"They will not know us. They can not trace the ship. I will teleport Kain and Claudia to the surface and they will test these claims of a link. Claudia...are you up to such a venture?"

"I will have to be, I want to know. Just be ready to teleport me quickly please," Claudia said softly, her voice betraying no reluctance even though they all knew in advance the journey would hurt her. Large numbers of people always overwhelmed her fragile shields which was why Claudia almost never stepped off the Maelstrom. Her condition made her an exile from her own world which she loved, and where she was loved and missed. An empath that couldn't shield herself was in constant danger of being overwhelmed, hurt, and even manipulated.

Claudia lived in near total isolation. It was a lonely and painful solution for a very social being. Amongst Claudia's people, weakened shields was considered worse trauma than losing a limb. The fact her wings had been torn off caused looks of sorrow and pity among her family, but her irreparable shields had induced hours of keening whistles- the sound of profound grief. The only condition considered more severe was the total loss of empathy. That fate had befallen Jordan instead.

"You think Kain will go?" Robert quiered incredulously.

"He will go," Pagan said with a toothy smile. "I will see to it."

"Must be nice havin' a personal slave," Talon said with an evil grin.

Pagan looked offended. "He is not my slave. I do for myself whenever possible, but he owes me a life-debt and so there are times I may make demands of him when there is something he can achieve that I can not. That is not slavery. That is reciprocation."

"OK OK! Sorry I said anythin', Scales!"

"You do not improve your standing with that... that nick-name Talon," Pagan said haughtily, but she smiled.

Getting down to the surface took less time than Optimus' wildest hopes could have imagined. Of course he didn't realize that the Maelstrom was in synchronous orbit right over Central. He also didn't know that while Rodimus had disruptor fields for mechanical teleporters being installed all over the place in the shape of everything from colorful lighting fixtures to electronic sculptures, there were no such defenses against organic teleportation.

One quick teleport from Pagan with a portable hologram field to disguise their appearance, and Kain, Claudia, Talon, and Pagan were in Central without going through the doors. They knew from Talon the appearance of the individual they were looking for, although no one questioned how the explosives expert knew in such detail.

It hardly mattered though. Claudia could have found Rodimus even if every Transformer had been identical.

The multitude of minds on Cybertron would have been harsh on her mental "ears" under the best of circumstances, but Rodi's emotional "voice" let out the continuous scream of anguish he could never express with his real voice. Less than two minutes on Cybertron's surface and Claudia was whimpering. They weren't even within eyesight of the gaudy robot yet and she had her shields up as strongly as she could, but she led the others straight for him through Central's confusing halls. Pagan and Talon exchanged glances. Claudia's nameless people didn't change facial expressions much - relying on empathy to communicate feeling made such things trivial and superfluous, but they could see her increasing pain and reluctance in her tense walk.

Still, bravely, she led them on.

When Rodimus unexpectedly came out of a room with another robot, Claudia flattened herself against the wall and shuddered convulsively. She made the low, moaning keen which was the start her brand of scream. Seeing she was about to call attention to them Talon helpfully clapped a hand over her mouth, taking care not to hurt her fragile frame.

"That's him," he told Kain.

Kain didn't stoop to responding to such an insultingly obvious statement. Instead, he preformed the distasteful duty of touching the robot's mind. Claudia shuddered again in Talon's grasp and then he felt her force herself to relax. She tapped his arm and nodded so he let her go. Kain and Claudia reached out for Rodimus in the same instant - each using their separate abilities to verify what Optimus had so outrageously claimed.

Touching Rodi's mind unshielded was like touching a live power cable for Claudia. Even though Talon was alert for another scream he was taken by surprise when she doubled over in anguish and let out an ear piercing whistle that echoed down the halls of central at frequencies nearly beyond the human range of hearing. The Autobots heard it though and looked around in confusion. Talon was glad they had opted for a full cloak that rendered them invisible instead of simply disguising them. Claudia passed out cold almost instantly, and Pagan gathered her up for immediate teleportation if the Autobots got too close.

Rodimus was the last to shrug it off. The others looked about for a few minutes but gave up quickly. The pink feminine looking robot with Rodimus (who Talon didn't recognize) seemed more concerned about Rodi's concern than the actual noise.

"What is it?" she whispered to him. Only the fact that the Maelstrom crew was standing, cloaked, almost at their feet let them hear her.

"I..I don't know Elita. I obviously don't like unexplained events around here, but it's more than that. That noise...sounded...familiar somehow. As if I'd heard it before," Rodimus said. Then he shook his head and stiffened, looking around in suspicious fear.

Kain looked at his sibling, and indicated a swift retreat. Rodimus had been on the verge of sensing the telepath's scan. Talon and Kain each took one of Pagan's arms and they teleported back to the bridge of the ship.

"Well?" Robert said.

"The link is confirmed," Kain said with obvious distaste. "There is an open channel to another mind in that robot. It had Lancer's feel to it, but I could not do a full scan. The robot is surprisingly sensitive, and he nearly detected me. There is a very poorly constructed shield damming the channel, but it is eroding the robot's life force rather than truly blocking anything. If it is not removed, the robot will die."

Having made this analysis, Kain left the bridge to perform cleansing rituals. He was not concerned with the robot's pain at all. Rather, he felt unclean for having touched the mind of another species - something he would have never done without the life-debt he owed Pagan. The fact that the robot's mind was in such poor health didn't help matters any.

To Kain's mental "eyes" Rodimus' mind was like a pestilence ridden, gangrenous body - soon to die of self-inflicted, infected wounds, and serving to solidify Kain's view that most other species were not only crazy, they were stupid. Only a complete fool would try to sever such a link, especially through such clumsy means. It was as though Rodimus and Lancer had tried to perform an amputation of their minds, and, having failed to make a clean cut, had left the remains attached and rotting.

Kain felt no sympathy for them. He was merely disgusted.

Predictably, Claudia sympathized only too much when the others finally got her to come around. They had taken her to her own ultra-shielded quarters to awaken.

She awoke with a scream that made all the others but Jordan flinch in pain. He merely flinched in sympathy.

"Oo! He is dying!" Claudia said, when they finally got something coherant out of her.

"Kain said as much," Pagan said. "I'm sorry we brought you. Kain could have done it on his own."

Claudia shook her head. "He could not tell you the robot loves Lancer though. I do not know why he would try to sever the link, but it is not to hurt Lancer. He is taking as much of the pain as he can into himself. There is such sadness in him! It overrides even the pain he feels from what the Jabez did to him and I have no doubts that he is the one Shellshock speaks of. We MUST help him!"

The others smiled. Claudia didn't need much more than the knowledge someone was hurting to want to help them. Once she felt someone's pain, she couldn't forget it until it was eased. The fact that she didn't know Rodimus didn't make a hair of difference.

"But what should we do?" Malice asked, having no experience at all with such things. She was thinking mostly of Lancer. The idea that her friend might be alive was only just starting to sink in.

"We must find Lancer of course," Pagan said. "Both Kain and Claudia confirm the bond. Such bonds are not meant to be broken, but it may be that this robot and Lancer do not know it. If the Optimus robot is correct, then it is Lancer's old fear which separates them. Claudia confirms the robot does not want it severed. Therefore, we seek the problem. Our Lancer. We should do that anyway. She is without the ship's protection in a universe of hunters and she is likely to be weakened and suffering just as the robot suffers."

"The girl can't really die of this, can she?" Talon asked.

"We will not let it happen, Talon," Pagan said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Maelstrom 6**

**Contact****: Part 2**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

When the old codes were re-transmitted Optimus nearly jumped out of his metal skin. He couldn't believe they were responding again, let alone so quickly. It made him feel something too much like hope to be believed. He had been sitting watch since the first contact had been severed - planning to alternate with Jazz if he had to wait that long. When he opened the channel though, something happened. The computer banks at the communications terminal lit up like a nova, and then _something_ took over for an instant. When the foreign control was released, he found his station completely reset to a frequency that had more in common with Rodi's new systems than Optimus really wanted to think about. It had taken the young Prime weeks to get even a few terminals set up, and this console had just been reconfigured under Op's nose.

"Forgiveness Robo...Optimus Prime," the hissing voice said. "We feel the need for more privacy."

"I understand," Optimus said. "Rodimus has been doing something similar since he's been back. We only keep the old systems running for the sake of appearances."

"Your partner...he learned these things from Lancer?" the voice asked.

"He learned a lot from her," Optimus said sadly.

"Not the least of which was the name of her soul. We confirmed your story. The link exists, and it is killing them."

Optimus felt a chill. He had known Rodimus was dying for weeks, but somehow it was worse to hear it confirmed.

"How...?" he started, and then stopped himself. He didn't want to scare them off by prying.

"We are closer than you know, and we have members adept in studying such links. We will help you. Our friend is surely dying too, wherever she is."

"I'm sorry. I tried to convince her not to go in the first place, but she wouldn't stay."

There was a strange hissing noise that might have been laughter, and some more identifiable human chuckles from the other end.

"She prob'ly told you where to stick it too, didn't she Sir?" said a human male.

Sir? thought Optimus, even as he tried not to insult them by criticizing Lancer. He waffled a little and the laughter on the other end increased.

"We'll take that as a confirmation. Don't feel badly. Lancer's defining characteristic is stubborn, right after irritable."

"Something she shares with my partner I'm afraid," Optimus said. "When she left, she said she planned on heading back to the Jabez complex where she rescued Rodimus to make sure it was totally destroyed."

"*TK* Foolishness. She's knows we would not leave it standing. The base and those who were in it met their ends, and if they hadn't she would have been seeking death to go there alone."

Optimus paused, and then shook his head. He sensed he had to be very honest with these people if he expected them to help him. "I think that was the plan," he said. "She seemed very...distraught over the idea that she was mind-linked to Rodimus. She wanted to free him."

There was a sort of collective sound of disgust from the other end, but no one argued with him. Instead they gave him a series of codes which would let them know he wanted to speak to them. He got them to accept Elita as a liaison, explaining that Rodimus knew his schedule too well for Optimus to get away with contacting them often personally.

They both amused and frightened him by accepting "the intelligent pink one with the soft voice" as their contact: amusing for an accurate description, frightening because it clearly demonstrated that they had SEEN Elita, been near her, and yet Optimus had no idea how or when. Rodimus' repeated assertions that all of the new security measures, unbreakable as they seemed to Optimus, might be in vain against the Jabez sounded less and less paranoid to the elder Prime by the second. Elita's schedule was more flexible though, and Rodimus avoided her a bit since she so often got through his defensive masks and got him to admit things he was trying to hide.

When the "negotiations" were done, Optimus asked the question which frightened him the most. "May I speak to Goldbug?" he asked, quietly, and trying not to feel defensive he needed to ask to talk to one of his own.

"That is not up to us, Optimus Prime. The person who is with us has declared that Goldbug is no more, and has renamed himself Shellshock. None of us have forbidden him to speak with you if that's what you are thinking. To the contrary, I think it is wrong to deny the past, but he is not willing. There are deep hurts involved, Robot. The body is healed, but the spirit is not. You must accept this."

Optimus sighed in frustration, but he really didn't have any choice but to accept it. Some part of him wanted to rush over these people to get to Goldbug, to talk to him and comfort him. It was the side of him that mourned his lost friend, and felt Goldbug would heal best among those that knew him. Then again, Optimus knew there was a certain arrogance involved with that thought - a certain condescending attitude that no fleshling could heal an Autobot like another Autobot could. Optimus knew it was false pride though. He had known Rodimus better than any Autobot ever, with the possible exception of Elita, up until the point Rodimus had vanished. Now, he rarely understood his partner at all, and had made Rodimus sicker by interrogating him about Lancer.

He made the final arrangements with the faceless voices on the phantom ship - hoping that somehow these strangers would find a way to make up for his mistakes, and hoping he wasn't making the biggest mistake of all by trusting them.

x

x

x

"I think this is one of the most ill-advised courses of action I've even seen you take Optimus!" Ultra Magnus complained.

"Well, I took it, so quit complaining and help me make it work! We have got to keep Rodimus from knowing about this! Even if he doesn't try to stop us, the sight of her friends might shatter the shield and kill him!"

Magnus leaned forward on the table and glared at his friend, "You don't ask much do you? One wrong step, one slight leak on their part and we're all finished! Even if they don't actively betray us they may not be competent to contain this information! How do we know they won't screw up?"

"Their technology is better than ours Magnus. They got in, got close to Rodi and Elita, scanned him somehow to confirm the link, and got out again without a twitch from the security systems or Vector Sigma."

Magnus stared at him. "They got that close to Rodi-the-Assassin and not even he noticed? And I'm supposed to feel better about this am I?"

Marissa, watching this exchange from her seat on the table, shook her head and smiled but she didn't say anything. Rodimus was helping Jazz fit still more new connectors to Vector Sigma's security web, and the remaining senior staff was taking advantage with a short, desperate meeting. Magnus was understandably upset, but they weren't getting anything done either, and Rodimus was notorious for finishing more quickly than expected. Or at least he used to be. Recent weeks had found him slowing down considerably.

"Rodi's dying Magnus. They confirmed it, not that we really needed them to. Do you think we can pull this off without him?" Optimus said.

Magnus drew back, and then shook his head.

"Right. So here we are. It's a risk, but it's our only choice. Magnus, you and I are going to have to keep Rodimus occupied. That shouldn't be too hard - business as usual really. If nothing else the we just have to be sure Rodimus thinks he knows what Elita is doing. She going to be the one in contact with the Maelstrom, and Marissa, she's asked you to help."

"Me?" Marissa asked, a bit surprised.

Elita was the one to answer her, "I'm...I'm unfamiliar with your species Marissa. I was hoping you could lend me your insights. I would hate for some impropriety of mine to insult or even worry these people - they are probably our only hope for reuniting Rodimus with his mate."

"I'll be happy to help Elita, but you've done fine so far," Marissa said.

Elita inclined her head and smiled, "Thank you, but I'm very grateful for your help. This is too important and I must confess to being a bit uneasy with these people. They hold too many secrets."

"That's only too true," Optimus said wearily.

"What about Goldbug?" Magnus wanted to know.

"I...I don't know much. They say he's alive, and wanted us to know that he's alive, but he won't speak to us personally," Optimus explained.

"That's convenient," Magnus said suspiciously. "Optimus the more you talk, the more this sounds like a scam!"

Optimus sighed. "If he's been as badly hurt as Rodimus was, it may not be as far fetched as it sounds."

"Optimus, I know better than you what the Jabez did to Rodi and Goldbug. I saw it in the tunnels. I'm just saying we are taking an awful lot on faith - especially when we're dealing with an enemy that operates so we can't even trust each other on sight!"

"They said he changed his name," Optimus said quietly.

"What?" Magnus asked.

"They said he changed his name to Shellshock."

Magnus paused, and took that in for a moment. "That doesn't mean we can trust them Optimus," he said, although his voice had softened a bit. He had never been close with Goldbug, but Optimus had served closely with the little spy for thousands of years. They had been close, and Magnus knew Optimus grieved for the suffering of one of his friends

"I know, but I doubt they realize we change our names whenever we feel the need. I don't see the point in going to the trouble of telling me that, even if they are lying about Goldbug being alive. His old name suits the purpose just fine."

Magnus sighed, "I just want you to be cautious. I'd hate to think that someone would use Goldbug's memory to get to us, but I can't deny the possibility."

Optimus nodded. "I know Magnus, but if there's one thing I've learned from Rodimus it's that cautious doesn't always work."

Magnus finally surrendered, holding up his hands in defeat, "Fine. Whatever. Just don't take it all the way to idiotic the way Rodi has the last few months."

Optimus smiled.

**Two days later:**

"Thank you again for joining me, Marissa," Elita One said with earnest.

"It's no trouble," Marissa said, and Elita chuckled.

"I checked into your schedule for today, Captain Fairborne, and you are lying...in the nicest possible way of course. You don't have time for this."

Marissa smiled, a little sadly, "Sometimes its good to be busy, and to be honest, I'm curious about these people. I think this is important - for more than just Rodi's sake, and that's important enough."

"Yes. If we can gain their trust, they have much they can teach us. That's why I'm glad you're here. I would hate to err because I'm misinterpreting something," Elita said.

"I hope I can help. I listened to the recording of Optimus' last conversation with them, and they don't all sound human."

"We will just try to tread carefully then," Elita said with a smile.

Exactly on time, the communications array in the shielded command center alerted them to an incoming message.

"Punctual," Marissa mused.

"Cybertron this is the Maelstrom, are you receiving?"

"Receiving, Maelstrom. This is Elita One."

They heard a brief, muttered conversation from the other end.

"It is Elita One," the hissing voice said, "But not only Elita One."

"My name is Captain Marissa Fairborne of Earth Defense Command," Marissa said formally.

"Why are you there, human? Our contact was to be the pink robot," the voice said, not quite accusing.

Marissa and Elita exchanged worried glances. They feared they had already insulted or frightened the Maelstrom's hunted crew. They also wondered how the ship had detected Marissa through the shielding - even though they had never intended to hide her involvement.

Marissa's thoughts spun for a moment and she decided absolute honesty was her only option. "If my presence bothers you, I will leave, Maelstrom. Elita has only recently been reactivated, and she is unused to dealing with organics. She asked me to join her to avoid any mis-communications."

There was more muttering from the other end, while Marissa and Elita waited tensely. Finally the voice hissed in a manner that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Claudia says you are both in a terror, human. Don't fear. You haven't offended us. We merely like to know who we are dealing with. Claudia says you are both gratifyingly honest."

"Err...." said Marissa, "Thanks, but who is Claudia and how does she know I'm honest?"

The hissing laugh went on for an unreasonably long time. For some reason the speaker found Marissa's directness particularly amusing.

"A human who doesn't speak in riddles! How utterly refreshing!" the voice finally said. "To answer your question, human, Claudia is our empath. She is able to sense your emotions from here. And to answer the question you did not ask, it is she who detected your presence as well. Our Lancer taught your foundling well if it is he that designed your location. The room you are in is nearly the only place on the planet we can not scan." The voice hissed in further laughter. "He disguised it well. It doesn't even show up right away as an opaque spot. It looks like an empty storage chamber at first scan."

The laughter resumed. Marissa's eyes widened, and she found herself smiling a little. She smiled more when she saw Elita sitting with her head cocked, listening intently to the laughter.

"Is Claudia the one who scanned Rodimus for the link?" Elita asked.

"She is," the voice said, suddenly all seriousness, "and she suffered for it. Your friend is in terrible pain Elita."

"We know, but he won't let us help him! Not that we know what to do for him anyway, and confronting him over it only made things worse!" Marissa said, not bothering to hide her annoyance and frustration.

"Does your friend have any advice for us? Can she help him?" Elita asked.

"*TK* No. She was knocked unconscious just being near him. She is repeatedly saying she doesn't know why he isn't dead already, and Claudia rarely speaks, let alone to repeat something she has already said. We must find Lancer. The link can not be broken this way, and she is killing them both by trying."

"What is your name?" Marissa asked suddenly.

The hissing laughter resumed for a moment. "I like you human. The name I will tell you name is Pagan. I chose it from your language - do you like it? I think it suits me, since I have abandoned my world and my traditions to fight Jabez alongside other species."

"Um...and you are....?" Marissa asked awkwardly.

"I'm a Drazi, human. Does that surprise you?"

"I think I'm past most surprises, Pagan. I'm just glad you are willing to help us. Can you tell me WHY Lancer left? I didn't even meet her when she was here, and I don't understand her. Rodimus loves her, and he says she loved him. It's...it's got to be hard loving someone who isn't your species, but if this link is so strong it's killing them both, there's got to be more to it than that," Marissa said. She was looking at the speakers as if they were the people she was addressing. Therefore she missed Elita's sudden, curious glance. The female commander had noticed the hesitation in Marissa's voice, and wondered about it.

"Do you know about Lancer's molestation?" Pagan asked.

"Her what?" Elita asked.

"Her...I think the human term is possession. Imprecise - like so many human sayings," Pagan said judgmentally.

"Rodimus told Optimus she left because she thought she would corrupt him somehow because of her 'demon", but we really don't know what she was talking about. They saw her physically change once, but I don't see how a simple transformation could corrupt someone," Elita said.

"Spoken like a Transformer," a male human voice said in the background.

"Male! Go back to your tinkering if you have nothing useful to say!" Pagan said, not bothering to introduce the speaker. She apparently turned her attention back to their questions at once. "Lancer's possession is probably the cause of this entire dilemma. I do not know if she has healed at all since we lost her, but from her recent actions I would say not. I can tell you the possession became the basis for every course of action she took after it happened. Her training, her eagerness to hunt Jabez and help those in need, everything she did was an effort to control or compensate for what she saw as a corruption, but which the rest of us know to be merely a wounding. Unfortunately, she is stubborn, and like your friend ignored advise and help from the start. She believed she was corrupted, and would not hear otherwise, for all that we have an empath and a telepath on board to tell her it wasn't so."

"What happened to her? What could be so terrifying that she's willing to put herself and Rodimus through so much pain? If she really loves him, shouldn't she want what's best for him?" Marissa asked, again missing Elita's inquisitive glance. Marissa didn't realize it, but she was putting just a little too much heart in her argument, and Elita was wondering why the Captain was taking this so personally.

"It is likely, human, that our Lancer does feel this is best for your friend in spite of her pain and his. She may love your Rodimus, but she hates and fears herself. In her mind, death may easily be better for Rodimus than a life linked with her."

"Great Cybertron," Elita said, "Why? Rodimus isn't gullible! Stubborn to the point of insanity but not gullible! He wouldn't love her enough to suffer like this if she wasn't in some way worth it!"

Pagan laughed again, this time bitterly. "You have come to the heart of it, Robot. Lancer's fears are misdirected, but they are very real, and she too is 'stubborn to the point of insanity'."

"If that's true," Marissa asked, "How are we going to get her to come back to him? If she thinks death is better for him...."

"We will have to address that when we find her," Pagan said gravely. "Something is keeping her alive. If she was truly without hope, she would have gone on a different suicide mission, even if she made it as far as the installation where we saved your friends. There are no shortages in those who would be happy to oblige her if she wanted to be killed. Yet she is not dead yet. We will have to wait and see. One moment...I have an idea that may help you understand."

There was another muttered conversation. It lasted a long time, and there seemed to be several voices dissenting. Finally Pagan's voice returned.

"We have decided to trust you with our faces. I hope you understand what this means to us. Our lives depend on being invisible."

"I...I don't know what to say," Elita said. "We won't betray you."

"No. Not willingly, but Conversion levels all loyalties Robot, and your situation is precarious, maybe even more than you realize. However, I feel strongly that we need to help you for our own self-interest as well as that of Lancer. If Cybertron falls completely under Jabez control, we will face a world full of enormous Converts, and that may well spell the end for freedom everywhere. On the other hand, if Cybertron grows more secure, it will be a severe blow to the slave trade. Your young leader has also made quite an ally of Claudia without ever knowing it. She is adamant that we do anything to help him. His pain haunts her."

"What...what are you going to do?" Marissa asked.

"We are preparing to send you some of the files from our computer banks. Lancer was possessed onboard, and the events were recorded. Perhaps they will help you understand why our Lancer is so afraid. Maybe you can even see a way to calm her fears that we could not."

"Thank you hardly seems adequate," Elita said, "but its all I have to offer right now, unless there is something you would like in return."

The visuals screen suddenly clicked on, revealing a female Drazian face in some kind of huge command center. Her lime and turquiose scales glinted as she grinned at them, revealing an infinite amount of small white teeth. There was a chubby human male with mousy brown hair and a lazy eye standing beside her.

"We would like our friend back," Pagan said, with a smile that seemed to wrap right around her skull. "You have offered us hope for one we thought lost. It is enough for now. Robert is transmitting the files. We are leaving orbit to search. The Optimus robot told us about the ship she stole and the warp gate she used. We will calculate how far such a ship could go on one refueling and search from there. We already have a few ideas of places she might have gone to hide, assuming she is hiding. I think it likely. Lancer is not easy to miss when she is being confrontational, and she is rarely around others without being confrontational. We will report our findings in a few days."

"Good luck," Marissa said with feeling, " and thanks."


	3. Chapter 3

**Maelstrom 6**

**Contact****: Part 3**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

"Jazz is going to complain about having to baby-sit again," Magnus said, taking his seat.

"You can't blame him, Magnus," Marissa said as he put her on the table. "The sicker Rodimus gets, the harder it is not to want to shake the chips right out of him! I swear the next time he says 'I'm fine," I'm going to blast a hole in him to convince him otherwise!"

Magnus chuckled appreciatively, knowing full well what Marissa meant. "He'd probably STILL say he was fine, Marissa. 'Hole? What hole? I'm fine!' That's what he'd say!"

"The scary part is you're probably NOT exaggerating all that much Magnus," Marissa said with a sigh, flopping down in her seat on the conference table.

"Let's get started," Optimus said anxiously. He was tense. Rodimus was getting sicker and more mentally distant by the moment, but he was still more alert and certainly far more suspicious than the average Autobot.

"Rodi's on Earth, Optimus," Elita said, "and Jazz will warn us if they get done early."

"I know, but I want to hurry anyway. We don't know how much they sent us, and I want time to think about it before Rodimus gets back."

"You want time to think up a good lie, and an even better back-up lie," Elita said with a smile.

Optimus laughed weakly, "If I'm that transparent maybe we shouldn't watch this at all!"

"Just relax a little. Giving yourself the surges over this isn't going to help you think straight," Elita said compassionately. Magnus was glad she was there. He was ready to give both of his leaders a completely insubordinate piece of his mind for their erratic behavior of late. Elita was certainly nicer about it than he would have been.

Optimus started the play-back and they all sat back to watch what the Maelstrom crew had sent them.

It wasn't what they expected - not at first anyway. They saw a pair of tear-stained young girls clinging to each other in terror. Both were slightly injured, filthy, and nude. One was blonde. The other sported a disheveled mop of dark curls. It wasn't until Pagan came nearby that one of them lifted her head so they could see her face clearly.

"GREAT CYBERTRON! That's Lancer!" Optimus said, finding it hard to believe that this little girl who flinched openly at Pagan's approach was the same one who had stood at his feet and sworn at him.

"When is this?" Magnus mused aloud, not expecting an answer. The screen suddenly divided itself, helpfully supplying the date, the time, and a mission record. The readout confirmed Lancer's identity and labeled the other sobbing child as Malice, class one telekenetic. Lancer was classified as a class three energy-shaper. The mission record summarized the rescue of the girls from a band of slavers who had kidnaped them from their high school. It reported that there had been several other mutants on board but all had been Converted already. Apparently the slavers were saving Malice and Lancer for a more professional Conversion in Jabez hands. It also made note that Lancer and Malice had not only been friends with some of these unfortunates, but had witnessed the Conversions.

"Do you know what I find most upsetting about this?" Magnus mused.

"The fact that they were so young?" Optimus asked.

"No," Magnus said.

"The fact that they witnessed the Conversions?" Elita asked.

"No," Magnus said.

"What then?" Optimus asked.

"The fact that they sent us what we thought was a simple record log and it turns out to be an interactive program. How the hell do they get that much information into a file that size? It's supposed to be impossible! If their systems are THAT good they could take over this planet's entire network, and I'm not excluding Vector Sigma!"

"I don't know, Magnus. I do know you have a one track mind though," Optimus said.

"Look at it this way, Major General," Elita said, smiling over her own use of his nick-name, "They could do it, but so far they haven't. Take it as a good sign."

"Hmmpphhff," Magnus said.

The next series of short clips showed both Lancer and Malice in training with an alien of a breed the Transformers had never seen before but found terribly interesting. Her name was Silva. She was bipedal, fairly humanoid, with a mohawk-like ridge which ran from the top of her head down to the base of her tail-bone. She wore no clothing, probably because her fluid, silver metallic skin was uniform from top to bottom. She was training Lancer and Malice both in the use of their mutant abilities and in physical combat. Lancer and Malice both wore the black and white bodysuits which seemed to be the standard for the crew which bothered with clothing. Neither really seemed to fit in them yet.

Both girls still managed to look awkward and shy, even as they were sparring tentatively with Silva and each other. Malice had a tendency to look anywhere but her instructor, while Lancer mostly stared at her feet. At least they no longer cringed when Pagan came to join them and tease playfully them about their clumsiness.

A few more short clips showed progress however. The Autobots watched with sympathy too, as Lancer sobbed her eyes out after her first real fight. Silva and Claudia worked together to calm her down - saying they knew she was upset by having to kill, but that the slavers deserved it and the Converts NEEDED it. After the recent Quint Eradication, the watching Command Staff understood Lancer's feelings of guilt and horror only too well, especially when it was becoming entirely clear to them that Lancer was no warrior born. She had been completely unused to any kind of violence prior to her kidnaping, and this quiet little girl was in painfully sharp contrast from the blood-splattered assassin who had coldly reminded Rodimus to wipe his blades on the corpses of the slavers he had slain.

Optimus realized suddenly that this was the point behind these clips. The Maelstrom crew wanted to give them an understanding of how Lancer had changed, and maybe to help the Autobots realize what was hiding under all of Lancer's snarls and rage - a frightened girl who didn't know how to cope with what she had become. At the same time they were shown her very real anger and disgust at what the Jabez were doing to her world and other children like herself.

Then finally the Autobots and Marissa were shown what Lancer feared.

It started fairly slowly. She complained a few times of headaches, and a feeling of being watched - a feeling the others dismissed as bounty-hunter paranoia. The feeling came and went sporadically over the course of a few days, during which Lancer was restless, unable to sleep or sit still for very long. No one thought much of it. Even Malice just told her to take an asprin and relax. They teased her for her rookie jitters a little over dinner, and she suddenly got uncharacteristically, explosively angry.

"I'M NOT IMAGING THINGS!" she screamed, pounding unimpressively on the table.

There was a moments stunned silence, and then applause and laughter that she was finally getting over her shyness. Silva, Pagan, Jordan, Malice, Claudia, and Robert were present, and they all put in a jab or two. None of it was mean-spirited and there was no need for Lancer's feelings to even be bruised. Her face contorted with rage however, and Claudia rose to her feet in distress at the fury the mutant was projecting. Claudia's notes on the side of the screen read that in retrospect, the empath remembered feeling that something was driving Lancer's emotions - something outside the mutant herself.

Lancer opened her mouth as though to scream more at them, when suddenly she just screamed. Clutching her head and wailing in anguish, she collapsed, hitting her chair jarringly on the way down. Her friends rushed to her side, and found her unconscious, but breathing steadily. They opted not to move her until she woke up, and stood to debate what they thought might be wrong.

None of them were actually looking at her when her eyes opened except the cameras. The watching Autobots could see from the instant those glowing orbs split open that LANCER was no longer in command of Lancer, even before the transformation began. The being on the floor smiled in pure sensual pleasure - it was a gleefully mischievous expression - full of mocking evil. It licked "its" lips, writhed and stretched sinuously. The eyes flicked towards her debating friends and it smiled again. Lancer's arms went rigid down to her sides, and her knees locked. Then the convulsions started.

Malice gave an alarmed cry that Lancer was having a seizure, and then began screaming, as did Claudia, although for an entirely different reason.

Marissa felt like joining them. She had never seen anything so horribly nauseating in her life.

The being that had been Lancer began creaking and popping like an old tree. It was the sound of her joints and her very bones warping and rearranging themselves in a hideous fashion that could be easily seen through the contorting of her skin. It was rather like watching a cat playing under a rug - except that the numerous bulges in her flesh remained stretched and distorted even after the underlying bones had stopped shifting. Her hands extended to three times their original length, including the bones in her palm. Her skin bubbled. Heavy horns split her skull, and the blood stained the floor. The points scrapped the metallic foundation with each convulsion. Six inch canines punctured her lower lip from the top and a matching set curled up from her lower jaw like boar's tusks, leaving thin grooves in her flesh bleeding on either side of her nose. A bloated, blistered tail lashed around her contorted legs, which were clearly no longer human in configuration under her clothes.

Marissa let out a short scream of sympathy pain when Lancer's knees suddenly reversed themselves with a crunch. When Lancer's toes melted together and then split half-way up the shin in an obscene parady of bird's feet, Marissa had to turn away. As a human, this oozing transformation brought out the most emotional response in Marissa. The Autobot's were merely transfixed with horror, while the EDC Captain could picture only too clearly what this must have felt like. Magnus looked at her in sudden concern - realizing he rarely saw any kind of physical trauma bother Marissa visibly. Marissa was well used to war trauma, but this was so unnatural...so...violating, that it disturbed her the way no blaster wound or broken corpse had ever done. She didn't LIKE such things certainly, but she could understand their causes. Perhaps it was that she knew battle injuries could and probably would befall her someday. Still, she felt that such risks were hers to take, and that she had a degree of control over whether or not they happened.

She chose to work in EDC. She chose to work with the Autobots. She trusted her skills to help her survive.

What skills could have saved Lancer? How could she have known or even guessed at such a risk at this...this...molestation?

The very worst of it though was that smile. That obscene, delighted smile that mutated Lancer's face through the entire transformation. It spoke of a pleasure that was nearly sexual in its intensity.

Lancer's friends had been transfixed themselves - gaping in disbelief through the entire process.

The monstrosity stood, grinning at them with that paralyzing leer. Blisters of stretched flesh burst and bled with every motion. The sound was audible over the recording. Oozing, it stood staring gleefully for an instant at Lancer's petrified companions - and then it attacked.

If there was any doubt that Lancer was no longer in charge of her own flesh, it ended here. The seeping demon moved with predatory precision - springing at the others like a taloned frog, and swinging those elongated limbs like scythes. It left none of them unscathed. It laughed, and used Lancer's mutant abilities to drain the ship's lights. Even Silva was taken so utterly off-guard that it was obvious "Lancer" could have killed them immediately if it had wanted to. Apparently it didn't. It cuffed Malice over the head with a powerful fist that drew as much blood from Lancer's now-shredded palm as it did from Malice when she cracked her skull on the floor.

Having disarmed the one opponent it knew might be able to easily contain it, the fiend took off into the darkness, ready to play games in the dark.

Disoriented as they were, Lancer's friends pulled themselves together pretty quickly. They held a brief frantic discussion, realizing what had happened, and rapidly realizing the implications. They came to the hurried conclusion that the beast must now be like a Convert - knowing everything that Lancer knew plus whatever it brought with it. They hoped it also shared some of Lancer's ignorance too. Pagan lifted Robert into one of the air ducts so that he could get to the command center without playing tag with those talons in the dark. Hopefully he could reroute power to the rest of the cameras and pinpoint Lancer. Pagan herself had an idea that Kain's telepathy, which Lancer knew nothing about, might be adequate to free her. The only problem was getting to him - and then convincing him to help Lancer.

"He won't want to aid her!" Claudia had piped in musical distress - her kind reflecting emotional turmoil more in an increase in octave than through expressive inflection or any other physical means. If you weren't an empath, the best way to read Claudia was to listen to how high her flute-like voice strained your ears.

"He has no choice," Pagan hissed, ear fins and scales rattling. Then she too ran off into the darkness, passing out of the visual range of the Maelstrom's only working com-eye. The readout announced that this incident was what had inspired the idea of making a com-eye for each team-member to help track and evaluate them, but mostly to know when they needed help in a fight. Pagan would suffer severe wounds at Lancer's possessed hands. Only the fact it was toying with Pagan let the Drazi warrior survive.

Pagan's written account (there were no visuals of her assault) stated that the creature seemed more interested in causing her pain and frightening her than anything else. It darted in and out of the darkness unexpectedly, causing shallow, but painful wounds, and making it clear that Pagan's life was in its hands. At one point it apparently used Lancer's powers to simply inflame Pagan's nerves - something the Drazi warrior openly admitted nearly overwhelmed her - a humbling admission from such a proud being. The beast suddenly left though - Pagan would find out later it had gone to toy with the others - harrying those still lingering in the mess hall the way it had gone after Pagan. Pagan had used its absence to stumble her way to her sibling's quarters, where he rested, oblivious to everything, in a meditative trance.

Kain had not been pleased to be awakened.

He had been even less pleased with what Pagan had first asked, then demanded that he do.

By the time Kain had been properly motivated to do something, Jordan was added to the casualty list. His thin forearm, stronger than it looked but still relatively frail compared to a human's, had been snapped with contemptuous ease by the demon. He had been standing over Malice and Claudia defensively, armed with human eating utensils, when the beast had come in to play. She/it had leapt on him with a speed no human should have been able to achieve - let alone something with a foot long fissure up its lower legs.

Silva did a bit better, and the Autobots gaped a bit when they saw her using tactics they had seen Rodimus use on the Quints. In a way it was eerie to see how the knowledge had passed from one teacher to the next. The metalic woman whirled smoothly, catching the monster in the collar bone, and at what should have been the knee simultaneously. The impact was visible in the creature's movements, but it only smiled.

"SILVA!" Claudia cried. "You're hurting LANCER! It's feeding off her pain! You're making it stronger by hurting it!"

"WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?" Silva cried. "I can't just let it pick us off!"

It hardly mattered. Assassin though she was, Silva was not a mutant. The momentary distraction of Claudia's shout provided more than enough opening for the creature's inhuman speed, "Lancer" merely reached out to touch Silva's body, connecting at the arm. White energy flared up Silva's nervous system to the point it was clearly visible through her metalic skin for an instant. Silva convulsed and collapsed like a lifeless doll.

Malice was barely coherant enough to even scream, so Claudia did it for both of them. The empath's written assessment stated that she had never encountered such a corrupt, sadistic consciousness before or since, and she claimed vehemently that she was certain the beast was somehow feeding off of all their fear.

Certainly, the thing that had been Lancer stood in apparent ecstasy over Claudia for an unreasonable period of time. It smiled that hideous smile the whole time. Jordan tried to secure his arm for another desperate stand, when it suddenly left again, this time heading for Robert on the bridge.

The next visuals were several minutes later, and the Autobots got to watch the monster chase Robert around the bridge - giving him several openings for escape and then cutting him off every time he tried to make a break for it. They could see his terror and despair increasing with each attempt to dodge her/it. It got worse when she/it started actually slashing him slightly every time he tried to get by her - cutting him only slightly, but multiple times with those taloned fingers. It/she grinned up at the cameras with a mouth full of needle-like teeth surrounding the more obvious tusks - well aware that they were filming, and suddenly darted for Robert - once again springing forward faster than humanly possible. Portly, exhausted Robert never saw it coming. The written account stated it - he literally never saw the creature move. He thought it was giving him another tormenting reprieve when the next thing he knew he was being held, suspended, over the deep chasms of the Maelstrom's computer core.

"THAT'S the computer core?" Magnus said in disbelief. Lancer's possessed self held poor Robert out at arm's length over a chasm Magnus could have easily stood in...on his own shoulders...three times over. "Optimus what have you gotten us into?"

"Blame Rodimus! Not me!" Optimus snapped. He was worried himself, but more than that he was tired of being reminded of how worried he was.

"Boys, quit bickering!" Elita said, "We're supposed to be learning about Lancer's possession! Not quibbling over minor things like computers!"

"MINOR?" Optimus and Magnus said together, aghast. Those computer banks spoke eloquently of technology light-years beyond their own.

"MINOR!" Elita said sharply - not really raising her voice but coming closer to it than Marissa had ever heard her. "There are people suffering on this record! One of whom just happens to be linked irrevocably to someone you both claim to be friends with! Do you realize that? Do you realize this is Rodi's possession too? You are watching it but he REMEMBERS it! He remembers it so well that he's willing to die rather than let Lancer feel like HE'S doing the same to her! HERE is your answer to all his stubbornness and you're looking at a big heap of microchips! You must need some of your own replaced!"

Marissa decided applauding would be overdoing it, but it wasn't a very satisfying decision. She couldn't help smirking a little though when Optimus Prime, Autobot Commander, and Ultra Magnus, City Commander, sank meekly back into their seats like chastened school boys and returned to watching the fight on the screen without another word. Not that it was hard to give the show attention - far from it. Marissa would have liked to been able to turn her eyes away.

The thing that had been Lancer played with Robert while he choked and struggled uselessly in its grip by swinging him back and forth over the edge of the chasm and feinting at letting him go a few times. Robert deprived it of the pleasure it wanted by very sensibly passing out. It frowned and shook him a few times and then dropped him on the platform - kicking him once in disgust and leaving deep puncture wounds where the talons pierced his flesh.

It turned back towards the hallways - probably to find its other toys again, when Kain appeared in the doorway. The big Drazi showed no sign of fear - only a visible disgust. Pagan stumbled in behind him - bleeding, but grimly upright. The "demon" grinned and leapt forward, apparently gleeful for a new plaything when Kain firmly met its/her eyes. All trace of glee instantly vanished.

It was over so fast it was almost anti-climatic. Kain said nothing, did nothing. He didn't even advance as the monster tried to back away and break eye-contact. It made a thin sound of protest just as it was reaching the edge of the precipice. Kain merely narrowed his eyes.

Something gave.

Something died.

And for a brief second, Lancer's eyes were her own again in that horror of a body. What they reflected was beyond horror. Beyond despair and terror.

Pagan stumbled towards her, a hand outstretched in support or comfort... and Lancer slowly, deliberately stepped back.

Pagan went to her knees, the hand still outstretched, with reptilian eyes dilated black with shock.

"You are a fool," Kain said, leaving the bridge without another word.

Pagan stumbled to her feet and passed the slowly reviving Robert in a flurry of scrambling scales. She peered over the side and found Lancer's still twisted form only two levels below the bridge level. The readout said it was still nearly impossible that a human would survive such a fall - each level was nearly 20 feet high. The physical changes the possession had made gave Lancer a temporary protection which saved her life.

She apparently didn't take much comfort in that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Maelstrom 6**

**Contact****: Part 4**

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing back in the late 1980's. It began as a fan-publication so the first chapters are in the form of a comic book! If you have not read the nine original **Maelstrom Comics** and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. This is a complex universe. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com (I have put double spaces between the URL here or FF . Net eats the link.) The comics and art which accompanies this series are there...and believe me I am a better artist than writer.

**Most chapters of this series contain strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!**

When she woke up three days later in the Maelstrom's medical facilities, Lancer came to screaming.

"GET OUT OF ME! LEAVE ME **ALONE**!"

Friends had come running from everywhere to comfort her - bruised, bandaged friends. Malice had a concussion. Jordan had a broken forearm. Silva remained groggy and sluggish - she had been by far the most seriously injured, and there had been tense doubts about her survival in the first crucial hours after the fight. All of them were cut to some degree, and many of them had stitches. Not to mention the bruises and bumps which stood out like accusations on every face which approached Lancer.

She shrieked incoherent denials, clawing frantically at her head with her bruised fingernails. It surely hurt. There was barely an inch of Lancer's body which wasn't bruised in some way from either the transformation or the fall. Her bones had rearranged themselves inside her skin, rupturing blood vessels the whole way. The readout stated that she had required almost the entire 6 pints of her own blood the crew kept stored frozen for emergencies, and that they had been forced to puncture her skin themselves in a few places to drain areas where the bleeding was causing pressure from within.

It could have been worse. It SHOULD have been worse....especially since none of them had more than rudimentary medical training. Jordan was the closest they had to a field medic, and he was hurt himself.

She should have been dead.

Instead she just screamed that she wished she was - begging the to "Get it out" or kill her in turn.

Malice telekenetically stilled her injurious thrashing, and they all tried to calm her ravings. Promises that the thing was dead produced even wilder ranting. Lancer wouldn't believe them. She COULDN'T believe them, and when they continued to insist it was over she suddenly got angry.

"IT ISN'T OVER! HOW CAN YOU TELL ME ITS OVER WHEN I STILL FEEL IT? DON'T YOU SEE...? WHA...what..?" Then the screaming started again. It didn't seem to the Autobots like anything that could scream that way would ever be sane again. Lancer shrieked like a rabbit in a snare, higher and higher, and her horrified friends and the Autobots could see why.

As her anger at her friends increased, Lancer transformed. Magnus and Optimus had seen this before, although it was harder to watch this time because of Lancer's evident terror. Elita and Marissa had only heard rumors though, and Marissa especially was feeling far more sympathy for Lancer than she'd ever thought possible.

Elita had always had sympathy for Lancer, knowing only too well how life could strain a relationship past all bounds. Marissa however, had always felt a little anger towards Lancer, a little blame, even though the EDC Captain tried to reserved judgment for when she had all the facts. It was hard though, to watch Rodimus suffer without feeling some resentment towards the cause of his pain. Marissa was somehow still used to Rodimus enjoying life, and taking on every obstacle with ornery pleasure. It was hard to see him shying away from things he used to enjoy - things like music, which he had so loved, and now avoided while pretending he wasn't. Marissa had caught his reflection in a monitor one time when Jazz and Blaster were having one of their all-night "jam sessions" at Metroplex. It had been early on, before she'd even known about the Jabez, and she had wondered later about his silent feet. She hadn't wondered why he'd fled though - too many Earth songs applied to broken relationships.

She wasn't used to Rodimus seeming lonely...and some part of her couldn't be objective in the face of his pain. Lancer was HURTING him, and Marissa couldn't imagine a justification.

Now none of them had to imagine, and suddenly Lancer's reactions were only too easy to understand.

The young mutant scrambled frantically around her bed again as if trying to escape from her own body. (Malice's shock broke her telekinetic controls on her friend.) Screaming the whole time Lancer tore at herself with talons that were delicate compared to the original transformation, but which still sliced through her flesh like paper. Malice desperately reestablished control at the sight of blood, and Lancer, suddenly entirely trapped, fainted.

This scene would repeat itself every day for weeks before Lancer could be trusted not to rend her own flesh in an effort to "get at it" or kill herself, whichever came first.

Finally convincing her "It" was gone only made things worse. She fell into despair, claiming that if "It" was really dead, then it had corrupted her and there was no hope of ever freeing her soul of its contamination. After all, wasn't she still prone to fits of violent rage? Wasn't the transformation proof enough? The fiend had left its mark on her, and if there was nothing left to exorcize then they should WANT to kill her before she hurt or corrupted them too. Hadn't they had enough of that the last time?

The readouts went on analytically about how Claudia classified the "possession" as a psychic rape. They learned very little about the actual being itself - Kain's interference had destroyed it utterly. HIS terse analysis, reluctantly given, was that the creature had NOT been a "demon" in the classic human sense of the word. It had taken that image from Lancer's naive, terrified mind as the ultimate in evil, and shaped her into that. He labeled it a "pain-feeder" of some sort, supporting Claudia's assessment that the creature had been fostering and feeding off of their emotions, particularly Lancer's.

He claimed the creature was easy to disrupt psychically, and there was a vaguely offended undertone that Lancer did not have absolute faith in his word that it was gone. He noted that the invasion had taken place through previously undetected telepathic channels which had been dormant in Lancer, probably since childhood, which had given the entity an opening - like a hidden but unlocked door to Lancer's soul she wasn't aware of. Kain went on to say (rather condescendingly) that if she had been aware of it the invasion would never have occurred. In other words Kain believed the weakness of the entity was surpassed only by the weakness of the one it had possessed.

Lancer agreed with him on that much at least.

The one comment anyone made during the series of clips marking her progress, was when Magnus remarked on the perseverance of her friends in dealing with her rampages for months. There were times when they had to lock her in a room for days on end while she bruised herself bloody on the walls. She would fly into a rage, or into sobbing despair, or into a brooding sulk with no warning. Magnus also noted it was probably where Lancer herself had learned how to put up with their similarly suffering Rodimus after she rescued him.

Finally Silva's sterling patience snapped, "Oh quit whining Lancer! Even if all those misguided notions of yours are true, you aren't insane YET! You haven't fallen YET! Are you going to spend the rest of you supposedly limited days of sanity whimpering in the dark, or are you going to DO something with that body and those powers that makes some kind of difference?!"

Lancer's eyes had flared with the now familiar blazing white rage, but she had not roared curses or denials. Instead she stared at her friend and teacher with a new-found intensity.

"I am going..." Lancer had hissed in her new "demonic" alto, "to make up for what I will yet do."

"How?" Silva had challenged.

"Teach me..." Lancer whispered.

And Silva had. Firmly, almost harshly demanding that her student control her body, her powers, AND her temper. She drove Lancer to the brink of berserker fury over and over, and then fearlessly got close enough to be killed, thereby forcing Lancer to rein herself in every time. Lancer learned the assassin's art of how to kill. At the same time, she learned how not to kill.

The Autobot's watching were exhausted just viewing the tapes, and they only had brief glimpses of the process.

Silva's disappearance months later hit Lancer very hard. She nearly fell into despair again, but emerged from her quarters a few days later with obsession in her eyes. From then on, she drove herself, as hard as she THOUGHT Silva would have driven her, but actually much harder. She would research arcane fighting styles from every system they visited, building Silva's mantra to keep alert for useful moves into a full time research project. Then she would practice what she learned, adapting and molding most of them to some degree...if only to compensate for the number of appendages she had to work with. The rest of the crew got used to either finding her hunched over a computer terminal, searching for new styles to experiment with, or in the on-board training facilities driving herself to exhaustion. Her body lost its childishness, and Optimus and Magnus began to recognize the cold, set visage which had so often challenged them, as well as the occasional flare of temper. Now they realized exactly how much control her moods were under, rather than thinking she was overly touchy.

It was one of the most monumental displays of courage, dedication, and determination to simply be good any of them had ever witnessed. And it bothered them, as it hurt her friends, and as it surely hurt Rodimus most of all, to hear her say it was all for nothing.

Of course it didn't help that there were still battles to fight - battles during which she often went completely berserk and behaved with more blatant savagery than even her original possessor had. It had toyed with its victims - she slaughtered them outright - using the demonic attributes as if she was a rabid animal born with them. Often she opted to to tear an opponent apart rather than lancing them cleanly when in this state, and frequently had little memory of doing it once the battle was over. Claudia's gentle suggestion that it might actually be better for her to fight in this state enraged Lancer. She didn't listen when reminded that she was following Silva's teachings - saving her power reserves for when absolutely necessary, and taking out foes by hand whenever possible. She was in a terror that she would hurt an innocent bystander, even though there were several recorded incidents where she rescued or at least ignored people who weren't attacking her. The idea that it might be best if she didn't have to live with the memory of having to put down so many Converts didn't matter to her. Neither did she listen when the others confessed they waded through hours of slaughter in a similar haze - their minds shutting down to a degree out of self-preservation in the face of so much horror.

Watching some clips of fights with Sponsor armies, Optimus understood the desire to shut it out. He also saw Rodimus' blank expression while slaughtering the Quints reflected in the faces of the Maelstrom crew while they grimly cut swath after swath through ranks of Converts. Lancer would cut down dozens at a time with sweeping lasers. Kain and Pagan tore through human flesh with terrifying ease. Jordan's blurring dives with a long scythe and a light laser took out more from the air. Robert and Claudia operated the sub-ship's incredible weapons arrays. Malice's telekinesis, most devastating of all, could literally crush the enemy by the hundreds....and yet these battles still took hours.

Mutant Converts often responded with advanced powers of their own, and while they couldn't match the Maelstrom crew's ability to improvise and improve, the Converts had the advantage of numbers and complete fearlessness. Mowing them down was difficult, dangerous work, and the team could never tell which of the blank faces before them was equip with more than rudimentary battle programing. Sponsors delighted in slipping a higher ranked Convert amongst the ranks of cheaper, more zombieish "grunts". Advanced battle CV's usually had a class three or higher power ranking in whatever class of mutancy they sported. The microchips which ran their systems did more than just aim and fire. True, they couldn't actually think, but the greater memory and programing sophistication gave them a much wider range of responses that basically amounted to the same thing.

The crew might slaughter several hundred Converts in a large battle, but over 80% of the injuries THEY received, minor and major, came from Class 3 or higher Conversions. Then they would have to rely on Jordan's competent, but rudimentary medical care, or take the risk of calling in favors from people that owed them. It was always dangerous to spend any length of time off the ship, so generally they got their wounds treated and recuperated back on the vessel.

Warriors themselves, and knowing the need for competent, trustworthy medical care, the Autobots and Marissa shook their heads in amazement.

"They're brave," Marissa said. "Stupid, but brave." The others nodded in serious agreement - they couldn't even laugh at Marissa's dead-on assessment. The very thought of going into battle without knowing their was a solid treatment program ready to aid them if they needed it was too grim a picture.

Optimus blessed First Aid and the rest of the medical staff.

"Orion," Elita said, "We may have just found a bargaining chip. We can offer them trustworthy medical care whenever they need it. If they lend us the technology to render our facilities more secure..."

"I think you may just be a genius, Elita," her mate said. "Offer it to them." Optimus waited for Magnus to say something to argue about offering the monumental gift of medical care to these rouges, but he found Magnus nodding in agreement. Somewhere along the line, Lancer's friends had earned the City Commander's respect, and therefore his support. Optimus sighed a little in relief - the conflict with Magnus wasn't serious, but right now any lessening in discord was a blessing.

They spent a while sitting silently, each wrapped up in his or her own thoughts while they digested all they'd seen and heard.

It wasn't easy.

Elita's mind was already past issues of trust. She was primarily focusing on how to approach the Maelstrom's justifiably skittish crew with the idea of a more permanent alliance. The offer of medical care was an enormous endeavor. They would have to chose the conditions of the arrangement with utmost care and attention to detail - such as how one group would contact the other safely, equipment exchanges, security measures for those using the facilities as well as those providing them. Most tricky of all, she would have to find a way to have the Maelstrom's technology installed, and provide safe-haven for injured crew members right under Rodi's suspicious nose. If he even so much as caught a glimpse of one of Lancer's friends on Cybertron he would intervene - provided, of course, that the powerful reminder of his mate didn't kill him at once.

She let the horrors she had just seen wash over her, and analyzed them through her own responses. It saddened her mostly as yet another example of the terrible extremes young people went to to cope with trauma. Trauma always went deepest in the young, she thought to herself, altering them in ways older people would never be - even if the trauma was worse. A single hit, and the distress of finding himself in command had made Orion Paix, dock worker, into Optimus Prime - the most renowned, successful leader in Autobot history. Now he took worse blows, and even death without thinking much about it. Magnus' "disaster" had forged him just as harshly, so that even now he couldn't stop analyzing, couldn't stop looking for ambush around every turn. It had made Rodimus into an implacable hunter even his friends hardly recognized, and Lancer into a seemingly heartless assassin who held everyone at bay.

Elita wondered if the effects of their individual tragedies would have been more or less had they happened when those involved had been older. It was something she wondered about now and then. Less experienced, the young always SEEMED to be more vulnerable to terrible shock, but Elita sometimes wondered. Optimus, Rodimus and the others had bent their souls to adapt to what happened to them. They had taken extreme measures to cope, true, but who was she to say those measures went too far? Maybe they were necessary changes...and maybe an older person would have cracked rather than altered their very essence enough to adjust.

Optimus was mostly focused on Rodimus. His heart ached for his partner, especially finally having seen some of what Rodimus must have loved in the woman who rescued him. Lancer's possession was easily amongst the most horrifying sights Optimus had seen, and Optimus knew Rodimus remembered the event as if it had happened to him. Optimus shook his head. Rodimus would probably feel better about it if it HAD happened to him. It made Rodimus' stubbornness seem almost sane - after all - if they had survived that agonizing possession, what was a little life-force drain? Even though it was killing them. Rodimus' chilling battle-madness also seemed to make sense now that Optimus saw it was similar to how the Maelstrom crew dealt with killing so many Converts.

Coming to terms with some of his partner's coping mechanisms didn't make Optimus feel much better about what Rodimus had to deal with though. Like Elita, Optimus still sorrowed in some ways for the time they had lost being apart for so long. Their reunion had a bitter-sweet flavor in that they both felt so complete now that they were with each other, and they both wondered how those lonely centuries would have been different if they'd never been separated. Remembering the pain of that separation, Optimus could only imagine what Rodimus must feel about the loss of a bond so deep its destruction was killing him.

Optimus still nurtured dreams of his partner being not just well and whole, but happy. The dreams resided in the part of Optimus which still felt terrible guilt for placing the leadership on Hot Rod. He had always known Rodi was meant to be his successor, but certainly never imagined Rodimus would be saddled with it in his second decade of life. Somehow, in a deeply subconscious way, Optimus felt responsible for everything which happened to Rodimus in connection with his position. On a more conscious level, there was also the very real compassion Optimus felt for any kind of suffering. Rodimus was in pain, and Optimus wanted to end it. Seeing that Lancer had also suffered only added fuel to Optimus' determination to "cure" her fears and let her reunite with Rodimus without reservations.

Magnus worried. Lancer's possession bothered him on a fundamental level he didn't want to examine too closely, but it also showed him what they were up against. He recognized she was deeply injured, and he admired her determined struggle to recover some form of control over her life. However he also saw her single-minded determination as an obstacle to her reunion with Rodimus. She would fight them with all her very considerable strength, and Magnus was not at all convinced they could "defeat" her convictions. Magnus recognized her fear as a formidable challenge, with the stakes being her life and Rodimus' life.

Having witnessed the what he knew to be mere glimpses of the Maelstrom's (hence Jabez) technology at work, Magnus was more certain than ever that none of them would survive if Rodimus died. The young Prime's work was barely begun, and the Autobots had no one with the knowledge they needed to replace him. Magnus cursed the time constraints of day-to-day existence. Rodimus should have trained a replacement, but as the only one capable of doing what he did, he was too busy playing the role of assassin, as well as the role of leader, to even consider training another. Now it looked like they would lose him to this damned useless shield unless Lancer could be found and convinced to drop it. Magnus wasn't feeling very hopeful of that. He didn't know what HIS response to mental invasion would be, but paranoia would probably be the least of it.

Perhaps the alliance with the Maelstrom crew offered some hope even if Rodimus did die....IF they could be trusted. IF they trusted the Autobots. IF they wanted the medical care Elita had suggested. IF they were willing to share their technology. IF the alliance held (IF!) after Lancer was found. IF some unforeseen disaster didn't claim the wandering renegades. If, if, if! There were FAR too many "ifs" for the City Commander to put any faith at all in this so-called alliance.

Marissa looked up at Magnus' serious, brooding face and felt a kind of kinship with Lancer that left her surprised. Hours ago, Marissa might have easily punched Lancer in the face for hurting Rodimus (if the Captain had somehow come across the missing mutant). Now Marissa longed to talk to Lancer. It would be good, Marissa decided, to unburden herself with a person who would surely understand what Marissa was feeling. Loving an Autobot... what soul-destroying nonsense! It made Marissa feel a kinship with a woman she had never met. Later, the professional side of Marissa would take over and she would analyze what she had seen more practically, but at the moment she was overwhelmed by sadness. Lancer's loss and her loss. They were one and the same weren't they? No wonder Lancer had fled...Marissa wished she could do the same. She felt a strange kind of pity for the mutant, and wondered if somewhere out there alone, Lancer was having as little luck out-running her feelings as Marissa was.

Two days later, Elita shut down the connection between her and the Maelstrom crew with a weary but triumphant smile. She gave Marissa, who was equally wrung, but happy, a glad grin. The offer of medical care, and all the trust and cooperation it implied had been accepted after much haggling and debate amongst the crew members. It had been frustrating for Elita and Marissa who were both used to a military hierarchy to deal with Lancer's chaotic, somewhat disorganized friends. They seemed to have no real command structure or leader, although Pagan often took the fore-front out of sheer personality. When it came time to vote however, her charisma didn't count for much. Everyone on board had an equal say in their course of action, and apparently something this serious called for a unanimous vote. All of them had differing concerns which Elita needed to address, and then readdress when something she changed to pacify one member worried one of the others.

In short, she was dealing with a series of stubborn, paranoid individuals from vastly different cultures and points of view rather than a cohesive unit. She even had to deal with some of them unseen. Jordan and Talon were off on a supply run in the "Sub-ship" whatever that was, and joined the debate through audio only. Elita caught Marissa clenching the arms of her chair until the joints creaked, and realized the EDC Captain was holding back the desire to reprimand their new allies for their disarray. Elita was glad of the woman's control. Even she, millenia's old commander of renegade Autobots was close to losing patience towards the end. Elita was also glad Magnus wasn't around. She didn't think he was fully recovered from his run-in with Neon, and in his current mood he probably would have told the Maelstrom crew exactly what he thought of their unprofessional MO and their chances for survival.

That probably would have been the end of it.

Now that it was over, however, Elita mused that none of the concerns they had brought up had been invalid. Maybe that was the most frustrating part of it. Their fears were real, needed to be addressed, and none of it was easy.

The counter-offer of security technology made it easier.

It also meant that they had to let Perceptor in on at least as much at the alliance. Optimus had given his permission. Telling Perceptor about the Maelstrom wasn't exposing Rodimus' larger plans anyway. Perceptor and his human aide KC had seen and examined Rodimus when he had first returned as a human. They had also examined him since the "seizures" had begun. The scientist knew about the link with Lancer, and he would understand why they had to keep things secret from Rodimus. Elita doubted that he'd question _anything_ once he got his hands on a few of the things Pagan had promised.

Robert had also asked, in exchange for further technology and with apparent embarrassment, for help investigating some of the ship's equipment. He grinned and scratched the back of his head while explaining there were quite a number of "interesting gadgets" on board no one had the faintest idea what to do with. Marissa had REALLY come close to losing it at that point until Pagan adroitly explained that the ship was stolen. It was designed to be run by preprogrammed Converts and Jabez. The programs were written in Jabez as well - an incredibly complicated language for a old species which had the mental capacity to go about four different tasks simultaneously with their hand-segments. The language was subtle - with the tiniest variation in the characters conveying an entirely new meaning, and small accent marks which changed the context of ideas many pages following.

By the time Pagan was finished explaining what little they knew of Jabez speech, Elita and Marissa had a whole new respect for the chubby little man with the lazy eye. Robert was a mutant, and as powerful in his own way as Lancer was. His mind wound its way through the complexities of an alien computer system day by day, memorizing and adapting. True he had translated only about 10% of the Maelstrom's programs, but it still represented a phenomenal amount of work, and was enough to let them run the ship without killing themselves or being caught.

Robert represented a whole new definition of computer genius.

Impressed as they were, it didn't give Elita or Marissa too much hope to realize that their allies, so far in advance of the Autobots, STILL weren't on par with the Jabez. They were both relieved when the dealing was done, and they could shut down the communicators and relax.

"Interesting people," Elita mused.

"That's one way of putting it," Marissa said ruefully.

"I'm glad Magnus wasn't here," Elita said. "For that matter, I'm glad Optimus wasn't here either. My mate would only find new excuses to worry himself to pieces, and Magnus would have started with 'incompetent' and gone down from there."

Marissa sighed sadly, hearing Elita, but really thinking about something else entirely. "I'm not surprised Lancer didn't try to go back to them. This link with Rodimus must seem so impossible to her. She must feel very...isolated by it. I wouldn't want to come back if I was her, Elita! How can we convince her? What does she have to come back for? Even if they drop the shield she can't be WITH him. It's...It would be horrible - loving someone you can never touch I mean."

Elita looked at Marissa a long time. She heard the EDC Captain's words and agreed with them - one part of her mind already thinking of ways to address that problem with Lancer. She heard more than just concern for Rodimus and his estranged mate however. Marissa wasn't looking at Elita. She was staring into space somewhere in front of herself, giving the Autobot plenty of time to study her. Elita might have been unfamiliar with humans, but she wasn't stupid.

"I ...see," Elita said. She was saddened by this revelation, and wished (not for the first time) that Marissa had been part of her team instead of Neon. Then again, maybe she was misreading things. It wasn't like her to be so pessimistic as to think there could be two sets of people in this terrible predicament. Elita sighed, feeling old suddenly. There had been a time long ago when she had believed all it took was to genuinely love someone and have them return your love to be happy.

She was no longer so naive.

Being reunited with Optimus was a constant joy to her now, but she had not forgotten the years when their love for each other had meant nothing but loneliness and anguish. In her heart of hearts, she had hated him for leaving her behind. She knew why he had done it, and it had nothing to do with military decision making. She also knew he never dreamed they would be parted long.

Still, for a long time, she had hated him.

Finally, she had realized that the tearing at her soul between her love and her hate was driving her mad. It was bad enough that they were holed up like prisoners in cramped hiding places, ever fearful of starvation or discovery. It was all she could do at times to keep her people from going on stir-crazy rampages - thinly disguised suicide attempts in some cases - all because no one was meant to live with that much boredom, and that much fear on a daily basis for centuries on end.

Elita couldn't deal with that, and the chasm in her own soul too. Something had to go to seal the breach - her hate or her love for Optimus. In the end, she had made a conscious decision to forgive him, and put the hate to rest. It hadn't been that easy of course, and she had struggled with it on and off for centuries before she could finally say it was true. She had told this to Optimus on their short reunion vacation.

He had been saddened, and sorry, but he seemed to understand.

What she could never tell him was how close she had come to choosing the other way. It had almost been her love she had set aside, because in a way, it was less painful. Loving him and missing him - that had been the real torture, and she could have chosen to end it. She hadn't, and she was glad, but she remembered the pain.

That was why she really wanted to help Rodimus and Lancer. It was also why she was reluctant to believe her instincts about Marissa. It would be horrible if the young Captain really was in love with Magnus. She knew they were good friends. She hoped against it being more than that. Elita had wished for a very long time that Magnus would find someone to bond with. Someone who met his standards of intelligence and courage, and who could tolerate his moods in return. For that someone to be human, tiny, and mortal seemed too cruel for words.

The next few days were so busy for Elita she didn't have much time to think about Marissa or anything but keeping up with the Maelstrom crew and still pretending to go about her usual business for Rodi's benefit. Optimus made it easier by concocting a diplomatic crisis with one of there trading partners. The situation actually did exist - Rodimus wouldn't have believed it otherwise - but Optimus made it seem more urgent than it was, and openly assigned the leg-work to Elita. True to form, Rodimus was only too glad to let Elita handle it undisturbed. As Optimus told her in private, "Nothing makes Rodi head for cover faster than the hint of some kind of diplomatic crisis. He handles them well enough, but he hates every minute of it."

Elita doubted it mattered much though. Rodimus had three seizures that week alone. He didn't have time or energy for trade agreements. He was off hunting slavers almost daily - concocting ever more creative ways to end their businesses without ever repeating his MO and shedding suspicion on Cybertron. Often, he had to tail their ships far from Cybertron to arrange "accidents" and "battles with other slavers".

He was too busy dying to notice Elita much.

The Maelstrom crew might have seemed disorganized, but once they made up their minds about something they worked together with an efficiency even Magnus couldn't have complained about. The promised equipment had arrived in Perceptor's lab the day it was discussed, and he and KC were in it up to their necks at once. Perceptor was literally babbling over it - not his usual incomprehensible techno-speech - literal stammering, stuttering babbling. Even KC couldn't make out a word he was so excited. Elita just patted him on the shoulder and told him to have fun.

The Maelstrom would be out of contact for a few days at a time while they searched for Lancer, with reports of nothing coming in at irregular intervals when the search pattern brought them close to Cybertron again. They doubted Lancer would have risked refueling her ship anywhere if she was really planning on going to ground, so they searched a rough circle around Cybertron within the Lazy Sue's flight range.

It was a good thing Elita was already used to disappointment. Every time they called they came up empty handed. Somehow it didn't help that she was amazed at the distances they had covered. They easily managed to search three times the area she would have said was possible in Autobot shuttles for the amount of time they were gone. The Maelstrom was a fast ship, but they were running out of options as well as time. They told her Malice had decided to take the sub-ship out on her own to explore a few places just beyond the ship's fuel supply range. She had a theory that Lancer might have used her mutant abilities to extend the ship's fuel reserves and there were a few places the telekinetic wanted to try while the others continued searching their defined circle.

Elita drummed her fingers in annoyance, although she was not annoyed at them. She merely knew Optimus would take this news badly - having gotten as neurotic as Rodimus in his own way. She decided not to tell him. They would find her or they wouldn't, and Elita knew that if Lancer had found a way to not just extend the fuel supplies, but to keep the ship running on her own then they would never locate her.

Elita ended up staring at the star charts, as she often did, and trying to think of likely possibilities. Where would she go if she was a heart-broken, hunted girl, running from her enemies, her past, and mostly her heart's desire? She marked a few possibilities on the chart outside the previous boundaries of the search. Maybe...maybe if Lancer thought she was being followed from Cybertron, she would think one extra stretch of distance past the known fuel reserves would throw off the searchers. She would have headed in a direction with no refueling sites between Cybertron and her destination....

Someone knocked, and she quickly changed the screen to show a prearranged lie - diplomatic information for her supposed crisis.

"Come in," she said.

"It's me, Elita," Magnus said, "You can go back to whatever you were doing. I just need to drop off some files for Optimus."

Elita smiled, and brought her star charts back up. Magnus looked at them curiously.

"That's a bit far don't you think?"

"Lancer's friends think she might have used her powers to bolster the fuel," Elita said.

Magnus muttered a few Cybertronian explicatives, and Elita had to smile at him. He was staring intently at the screen and obviously had no idea what he was saying.

"It's hard to believe anyone that small could contain so much energy," he said finally, "Or cause so much trouble."

Elita smiled again, "I'm rapidly learning not to underestimate humans."

Magnus smirked, "Well, don't judge all of them by the few you've met. Between Marissa, the Witwickies, and Lancer's friends you've only seen a few exceptional ones. There's plenty that are so self-centered, greedy, and plain stupid that you'll wish you could just step on them."

Elita laughed. "I never make snap judgments Magnus, you know that. Besides, I knew after a few hours that Marissa was exceptional for any species. It frightens me that a creature so young can be so focused and insightful."

Magnus sighed.

"You don't agree?" Elita said. Maybe she was wrong....

"No, I entirely agree. What worries me is that a creature so focused and insightful is avoiding me recently, and I can't figure out why," Magnus said, appearing genuinely disturbed.

Elita's heart froze. She wasn't wrong.

"Well, did you say something foolish to her?" Elita asked nonchalantly, knowing full -well what the problem really was and also knowing full-well she couldn't say anything.

"I don't think so. I doubt it," Magnus said. Elita smiled knowingly at him.

"Stop it Elita. I'm not saying I'm not capable of putting my foot in it. I doubt it because she doesn't keep quiet about it when I do. Captain Marissa Fairborne has absolutely no fear of telling me off when she feels I deserve it," Magnus said ruefully.

Yes, Elita thought, and you love her for it, even as you pretend it annoys you.

"This is something else," Magnus went on, "She seems...I don't know... nervous around me. Like she doesn't like having me around. Things haven't been the same since the whole Neon fiasco, and I swear if that...that creature said anything to upset Marissa I'm going to personally...."

"Now Magnus. I seriously doubt Marissa would fall for any trick of Neon's. Neon is a transparent as glass in everything she does, and you know it," Elita said.

Magnus grumbled, "I know. I almost wish it was Neon. That I know I can fix. I don't know what's wrong with Marissa though. She's so....distant."

Elita ached for both of them. Magnus you lucky, ignorant, blind male. Be glad you don't know the truth! Elita thought. She ended up promising him to tell him if she found out Marissa was angry at him. It wasn't a lie. She just knew already that anger wasn't the problem.

She worried about them though, when a few weeks later the entire Command staff and most of Rodi's close friends piled onto a shuttle with Rodimus reluctantly in tow. HE thought they were going to handle Elita's diplomatic crisis, but really they were abandoning Magnus and Marissa on Cybertron while the shuttle went to join the Maelstrom in orbit around a nameless swamp world.

Magnus was completely overjoyed at the thought of having two world's under his care alone. So overjoyed he had ranted for two hours before Optimus convinced him it was necessary.

The Captain and the Major General would have to fend for themselves a few days. Lancer had been found.


End file.
